Banshee The Origins
by X.P. Author
Summary: The origins of Banshee OC before she became a fighter in the Tournament. Rated M for violence, blood, and adult themes.
1. The Attack

**Banshee – The Origins**

**Chapter 1 – The Attack**

Unreal Tournament and all related themes belong to Epic Games and Midway. The story and characters are mine. I do not condone violence for the sake of violence. The characters are works of fiction and should not be used as role-models. However, should someone get their hands on any of the weapons used in this story, please tell me. I'd love to see a weapon from the late 23rd century.

The girl had just gotten home, watching the powered door slide shut behind her as she stepped out of her shoes. "Beatrice? Is that you, dear?" She hated that name. It was so… girly. The flowery voice that had called to her came from the top of the stairs next to the main entrance. Despite the tone, she knew her mother wanted something. She always wanted something when she acted nice.

With a sigh, the 12 year old girl called back "Yes, Mother, it's me." Her tone was one of mild annoyance. She bit back the question of what the woman wanted. She didn't really bother waiting for a response, taking off her brown jacket, hanging it in the hall closet. It was then that she noticed there was a third coat hanging there. She lived alone with her mother, and it was a man's coat. This got another sigh from her. She'd brought another man home. Doubtless he was some smooth talking man that'd last a few days before she moved on.

"Be a dear, would you? Bring us up some drinks. You know my usual." There was a pause, and then the flowery voice was heard again "Make it two." The girl sighed again. She _had_ brought someone home.

Her mother's "usual" was a gin and tonic double with a twist of lime and a dash of something bright red and sweet the girl had never learned to pronounce. She headed to the large kitchen and made two of these drinks, and set about bringing them up. The house was very large, and very old. More of a mansion, it was a relic from some 100 years or so before her time. Her father had been an investor in some mining company that struck it big. When he died of an illness when she was still a baby, her mother had gotten all of it; the money, the estate, everything. She then proceeded to squander it all.

The girl finally reached her mother's bedroom, and pushed the door open. What she saw made her cover her eyes, nearly spilling the drinks. Her mother was laying on the bed, stark naked, pale skin bare for all the world to see. "Oh, God! MOTHER!"

The woman turned to her daughter, tossing her blond hair over her shoulder, and looked at her daughter. "Oh, there you are dear. Now don't be such a nuisance. Come here and give me my drink. Don't forget to give one to Malcolm, too." She gestured to the person beside her, who sat up in the bed to look at the young girl.

The man was as nude as the girl's mother, but his skin was much darker, like the color of coffee. He was very well muscled, and as he moved, the muscles rippled with great power. When he looked at her, she saw brown eyes that looked hard, though not mean. He was smiling, too, hidden slightly under a full beard of grizzly black hair, matching the short fuzz atop his head. He said nothing as he took the drink, just nodding to her, and then sipped at the concoction.

She must have been staring, for after a moment, her mother's voice roused her from her thoughts "Beatrice, don't gawk at the man. You've delivered the drinks, now go along and give your mother some time with her friend." The girl would have laughed if she didn't fear what punishment she'd get for it. "Friend." Right. The man was her friend in bed for a while, then likely forgotten when she found someone more interesting.

She sighed and walked off, heading to her own room, trying to forget the image of her mother naked. This was easy, as she thought instead of the man named Malcolm. He seemed different from most of the men she brought home. Something about him was hard, and it wasn't his muscles, or his manhood that made her think this. His eyes were filled with something dark. Maybe he was a soldier of some sort. It would explain his muscles.

Once in her room, she stripped out of her school uniform, tossing the thing into the corner. She was glad to be out of the blue dress and silver, girly-looking shirt. She slipped instead into a tight fitting pair of black leather pants and a similarly colored shirt, torn along the bottom to show her pale belly. Her blond hair was pulled out of the standard fashion for her school and pulled, instead, into a tight ponytail. She looked at herself in the mirror, then. She hated that she looked so much like her mother, all the way down to the blond hair and green eyes, but at least this way she looked less girly.

The girl made her way back through the old house, hating the eye-hurting red carpet and wooden walls. She hated everything about her home, her family, her school, where she lived. The planet was some kind of rich resort world or something. Wealthy families paid lots of money to live next to other wealthy families. Most of the children of this place were high-brow asshats who looked down on everyone else. The girl hated them, too.

She heard sounds from her mother's room as she walked by; sounds that meant her mother was getting fucked roughly, though the moans were enough that people outside likely knew she loved that rough play. The girl blanched at the sound, and headed down the stairs. Grabbing her coat and her hoverboard, she headed out into the cool autumn air. Her mother wouldn't be happy when she realized she'd gone, but she never was happy when she snuck out like this. She'd yell and probably smack her once or twice, and that would be it.

The young girl went to meet friends. She hung out with what most would call the 'wrong type of crowd.' They smoked greenstash, a type of mild drug that was very illegal, though easily procured. They were the kind that vandalized public property, spraying gang tags, or bashing windows of hovercars. Sometimes they got into fights with other gangs. She'd become quite a good fist fighter because of that, despite her short stature and young age. The leader of the little gang, a 16 year old redhead who called herself Nitro, had been teaching her how to wield a pistol recently, as well.

Today, however, they were just at a park, meeting by the emptied pool with hoverboards to do tricks, or watch the others do tricks while they got high. She spent the remainder of the day with her friends, until it was dark. She parted company with the group and hopped on her hoverboard to head back home.

The sun had set by this point, and stars were blinking to life in the sky, obscured by the lights along the street. She was taking her time in getting home, knowing her mother was either still fucking her new 'friend,' or passed out. Either way, there wasn't much reason to hurry home.

She had stopped to look up at the sky again. That's when she saw it; movement of some sort. It looked, at first, like one of the stars was moving, then 6, then a dozen. The stars got bigger, and brighter, and after a moment, burst into streaks of flame. They were ships of some sort, descending into the atmosphere. Why would there be ships coming in the middle of the night, and why so many? They were getting closer, too.

Something was wrong. They weren't heading to the space dock, but the city itself. She tried to make out their outlines, but it was hard to see a ship so high in the sky at night. All she did see was their engine trails. That is, until one of them passed in front of the full moon. That's when she felt fear, true fear. The body of the ship was long and pointed like an arrowhead. Trailing behind were several metallic tendrils, giving the ship the appearance of a giant, metallic squid.

She knew the design only from text books. It was a Necris ship. She'd heard about the Necris. They were ghostly-white humanoids, looked like zombies with cybernetic parts. They invaded planets to expand their empire, using something called 'Nano-Black' to corrupt planets. She had no idea what that was, but it wasn't good.

The Necris also used mercenaries for invasions, the worst of which were the Skaarj race. The Skaarj were reptilian beasts, just smart enough to follow orders, but dumb enough to control with little effort by the Necris. They were also brutally vicious.

Questions were racing though her head, namely where she should go and who she should tell. She didn't have to worry about who to tell, however, as moments later, a dozen beams of searing light shot down from the sky, striking different locations. Houses, streetlights, buildings all around caught fire as the beams shot down again and again. She had to dive to the side to avoid being burned alive as one of those beams swept down the street near her. She still felt the incredible heat from the brilliant beam of pure inferno.

The girl scrambled to her feet and found her hoverboard lying a few feet away. She grabbed it and hopped on, kicking the thing into its highest speed and headed back to her house. Along the way, she saw other houses burning, some were completely destroyed. People were running everywhere in a panic, mostly screaming, some in pain as they burned. There were a few burnt remains along some parts of the road, people who had been caught by surprise in one of the blasts. She had to swerve to avoid one of those blasts as it strafed across the road in front of her.

Finally, she reached her street. There were fires all over, but her house looked to be in good condition. There was some smoke, and a little fire on the roof, but it must have been from one of the surrounding buildings. The girl leaped off the hoverboard and barreled through the front door as it slid open. "Mom?!" She didn't hear anything. This worried her. She rushed up the stairs and burst through her mother's door, and was met with the muzzle of a pistol pointed at her head.

The gun was lowered a moment later, and Malcolm, still in his nude glory, let out a sigh of relief. "It's only you, girl." His voice was so deep that it seemed to shake her. He pulled her into the room and shut the door. Once in the room, she saw her mother, still nude, lying on the bed, though breathing. Before she could say anything, Malcolm spoke "She's alright, don't worry. Just passed out from the booze." The girl let out a sigh. She should have known.

"Mister Malcolm… what's going on?" the girl asked, vainly trying to wake her mother up.

The man shook his head "I don't know, but it looks like an invasion. Necris ships, but their aim is too bad for the Necris themselves. Probably a merc force." He was pulling on his clothing as he spoke, a green jump suit with some golden symbol on the arms. The symbol looked like a human skull in a circle with wings. Military of some kind, or maybe he was a mercenary, too.

Malcolm looked back at the girl, who was still trying to get her mother out of the bed. He holstered the pistol in his recently attached belt, and walked over. The girl looked up as he approached, and suddenly felt even shorter. She stood only at 5 feet 3 inches, but it might as well have been 2 feet next to him. He must have been at least 6 and a half feet tall, maybe 7. He brushed her aside, and then bent down, picking up the naked woman on the bed. "Help me get her dressed so we can get you two to safety."

The girl narrowed her eyes "Safety my ass! They're attacking my home! Sure I never really felt much for the place, but it's _my_ turf!" She was getting a rather bland colored shirt and pants out of her mother's closet while she said all this. She may argue leaving, but she wouldn't argue about having her mother no longer naked in front of her.

The man didn't laugh, or do much of anything, other than take the clothing and begin to dress the still unconscious woman "Turf, huh? Well, kid, those people out there aren't another gang. They're heavily armed fighters who wouldn't think twice to shoot a little girl down if she got in the way." He hefts the now clothed woman over his shoulder, taking his pistol back in hand again "Besides, someone needs to stick by your mother and protect her while I find us a way to get off this rock."

The girl was suddenly struck by an idea "You mean a ship? I have an idea, but you'll have to wait here a minute." Before the man could argue, the girl ran from the room, darting down the hall in into her own. She rummaged around through the piles of clothing and random bits of junk lying around the room. After a moment of her search, she found what she was looking for: a small keycard with some family crest upon the front. She ran back to Malcolm, who she found at the stairs, carrying her mother down them. When he looked at her, she held up the keycard "I know where we can get a ship."


	2. Escape!

**Banshee – The Origins**

**Chapter 2 – Escape!**

Malcolm must have been a soldier. The way he moved, low and looking around always, his pistol at the ready in his free hand while he held the girl's unconscious mother. The girl, still dressed in her black leather, was leading the large man along the back paths, behind houses that were now on fire. The paths were hidden within bushes and trees, most of which were also on fire, but it was safer than risking the open streets. The ships still flew overhead, and those beams of death still shot down at whatever moved.

Eventually, she got them to the edge of the paths. It was some 2 miles from her house when the forested area ended, and the path continued in the open. She turned to Malcolm and looked up at the large man "Alright. We're close."

"Close to what, child?" he asked, with some annoyance in his voice. He'd been following the girl for over an hour, not saying anything, but she hadn't volunteered any information, either.

She held up the keycard again "One of my gang mates gave me this a long while ago. It's the keycard to one of the richest family's private hanger. We were planning on stealing one of the ships, but we never got the chance. Nitro was the only one who knows how to pilot anything." She was suddenly struck with worry for her gang mates. They were her friends, and she didn't know if any of them were alright. Probably not… most of them had been out when the attack started, so it was more than likely they were caught in the attacks.

Malcolm nodded to the girl "Good plan. Let's just hope that there's still something there. Where is this place?" The girl gave him the directions, and fell in behind him, letting the man who obviously knew how to fight lead the way. They darted from cover to cover, hiding behind buildings, rubble, burning vehicles, and anything else that might hide them for a moment.

They went about doing this for near an hour, before finally they neared their destination. Unfortunately, it seems the invaders had some previous intel on the city. No less than 10 men stood around the entrance to the hanger. Humans, in medium and heavy armor, all painted some dark grayish-blue, some insignia emblazoned on the sleeves that looked to be a hawk's talons. Malcolm recognized the symbol, and scoffed as he set the girl's mother down. "Huh. Mercs, alright. It's the Hawke Talons. They're nothing, but it's still 10 on one, so it could get tricky."

The girl again narrowed her eyes "I can fight!"

Malcolm shook his head "No, you stay here and guard your mother. Here, use this if you have to." He pulled the pistol from his belt and handed it to her. It was an old model Enforcer pistol that looked modified a bit. Heavy, but balanced, she found it was easier to hold than the old gun she'd been learning to shoot with.

By the time she looked up, Malcolm was already heading toward the group, staying low and hidden. In fact, if she didn't know exactly where he was, she wouldn't have been able to see him at all. He was good. She lost track of him after he slipped into a shadow. The next thing she knew, one of the men in blue was dead, a thrown knife in the side of his head. The others scrambled suddenly, shouting to each other, cursing, looking around for who had killed their comrade.

She spotted Malcolm again, for only a moment. He was running low, and ran past the body of the man he'd killed, grabbing the man's dropped rifle. The men hadn't noticed anything. They did notice, however, when a stream of bullets took down another of them. They also returned fire.

The girl watched, but suddenly heard the sound of movement behind her. She raised the gun and turned, but saw it was only her mother, rousing from her alcohol induced slumber, groaning slightly "What the…. Where am I?" The woman looked around, saw her daughter, and scowled at her "Beatrice, what have you done? Where are we?"

The woman was about to stand up, but the girl pulled her back down "Stay down, Mother!" she tried to yell and keep her voice as a whisper at the same time.

Her mother would have none of that, though, pulling her arm away from her daughter and standing up anyway. "Beatrice! What the devil's gotten into you, child? You tell me where we are this instant!" She was shouting.

The girl grabbed her mother's arm again, and again yanked her down to the ground, hard enough to actually pull the woman off balance and bring her to her knees. "Mother! Be quiet! I'll explain everything later. Right now, you need to shut up, or those men over there will come over here and shoot us!" she pointed to the firefight going on a short distance away.

This seemed to get her mother's attention "Oh my god! What the hell is going on?" After a moment, she gasped "Is that Malcolm?"

The girl sighed and looked back at the fight, then swore. Two of the men had apparently heard them. She told her mother to stay back, try and hide. She got the pistol ready, aimed at the closer of the two men, and pulled the trigger. The gun was definitely modified. The kickback nearly broke her arm, and sent her to the ground. Surprisingly, the blast wasn't as she'd expected. She figured it probably had some kind of sound suppresser on it.

She was struggling to get back to her feet, to try and hit the second man, but before she could even get up, something hard and metallic struck her head, sending stars to her eyes, and knocking her back to the grass. She heard, though muffled from her dazed state, the shout of a male voice, directed at her "You little bitch! You nearly hit me!"

She'd missed. So much for all the practice she'd been doing. She shook her head to try and get her senses, but her head was suddenly filled with pain again, this time as the man reached down and grabbed her by the hair, lifting her up off the ground. She started to kick about, and let out a shriek of pain and rage, trying vainly to strike her captor.

The second man had struck the girl's mother with the butt of his gun, much as she'd been hit, knocking the woman back into unconsciousness. "What should we do with these two, ya think?"

The first man, still holding the girl by the hair, laughed "We 'ought to kill 'em, but I say we take 'em and rape 'em first."

They both had a hearty laugh at that, but shook his head "Nah, mate. We don't have time. That big guy might come looking for these two." He looked down at the unconscious woman, and shook his head "Shame to do this to a pretty woman, but we got a job to do." He then brought up his gun and fired a burst into the woman's body, which twitched under the heavy bullets.

The girl saw all of this as if it were in slow motion. She saw him aim the gun, pull the trigger, and could have sworn she saw the bullets move through the air before piercing her mother's back. She watched the blood spray out of the wounds, counted as they struck, 2, 3, 4 hits, all through her lungs and heart. Her mother's body twitched and convulsed after each hit, but didn't move anymore after that.

Then time came back, and she screamed. It was shrill, high pitched, loud enough it tore at her throat. A scream filled with horror for what she just saw, and pure rage at the man before her that had done it. She struggled even more to get out of the man's grasp, twisting and kicking back at him. The second man called to his friend "Fuck, mate! Silence that banshee child already before the big guy hears!"

Then came a voice behind the both of them, deep enough that it seemed the air vibrated with the sound. That deep voice said only two words. "Too late." Before either man could say anything, Malcolm struck the second man hard enough to send him to the ground, dazed. The first man had to let go of the girl first before he could bring his gun up, so by the time he had raised it half way, Malcolm had already put a bullet between his eyes with the pistol the girl dropped earlier.

Malcolm walked up to the girl, who had been dropped to the ground. She was lying there, crying, and punching the ground. She then let out a scream of agony, the kind of emotional agony that no physical wound can compare to. When she realized that someone was standing next to her, she looked up. What she saw was a dark skinned hand, holding the handle of a pistol to her. She took the gun, then looked where Malcolm pointed. The man who had shot her mother was starting to come round, but still dazed on the ground. "He's all yours."

She couldn't even think. Rage filled her in that moment, and she rose to her feet, walking over to the dazed man, kicking him in the head as he rolled onto his back, dazing him farther. "B-itch…" was the only word he managed to groan out at her. She then pulled the trigger, shooting him through the chest. She was ready for the recoil this time, so it didn't knock her back. She then pulled the trigger again, and again, shooting the man over and over. She hear him yell in pain after the first few shots, but he was silent as she emptied the rest of the clip into his chest.

When the gun clicked in her hand, the clip empty, she threw it to the side. Her rage wasn't gone, only stronger. She fell to her knees and started to pummel the now dead man's face. She punched him over and over with all her strength, screaming again, the shriek filled with her rage.

Eventually, she became aware of the pain in her hands. She looked down at them through tear-filled eyes, and saw her hands were bloody and cut. She'd been beating the man's skull, the broken bone having cut into her skin. There wasn't much left of his face at this point. She sagged, her rage and energy spent, and looked about to fall over, but a large hand was rested on her shoulder. She looked up, and saw Malcolm. "Come on, girl. We need to go."

She looked, then, at her mother's body, blood staining her back. The woman's head was turned so she couldn't see the face. That was probably a good thing. She just stared at the woman who she'd despised most of her childhood life, and felt truly horrible for hating the woman who was her mother. She'd never have the chance to apologize, either. So she said a silent good bye to her, and stood up to follow Malcolm to the hanger.

The girl was in a haze as she walked, not seeing the bodies of the men Malcolm had killed. She didn't remember entering the hanger, barely hearing Malcolm voicing his worry that the ships might not be fueled. She didn't remember getting on the small scout ship that Malcolm had picked. She did remember leaving the hanger, though. The ship was small, with room enough for a crew of three at most, so she was strapped into the copilot's seat. This gave her a front row view as Malcolm did twists and turns to avoid the ships that started firing at them, instead of the ground. He slipped past easily, and with some fancy flying, also managed to slip through the blockade in orbit. Soon, the little ship lurched with pseudo-movement as hyperspace engines kicked on, bending the laws of physics around them as they shot into hyperspace.

She remained silent for a long time, just staring out at the vortex of colors that was hyperspace. Blue, white, red, green, yellow and black swirled around the ship in a great tunnel of energy. Despite the fact this was the first time she'd ever seen the hyperspace vortex first hand, instead of in a text book, she wasn't really paying much attention to it. Instead, she was trying to sort out the vortex of thoughts within her head. Questions, doubts, anger, sadness, confusion, and through it all, she kept seeing her mother being shot, over and over. Then the man she'd killed. She wasn't horrified that she'd actually killed someone. It had actually felt good to her, and that thought scared her more than any other. She rationalized that it was because it was the man that killed her mother, but she knew there was a different feeling with it.

After hours of not talking, she finally voiced some of the questions that were swirling around in her head. "I'm never going to see my home again, am I?" Malcolm, who was reclining in the pilot's seat, just shook his head. He knew that the Necris would convert the planet into one of death within weeks. By the time any force large enough to oppose them came, it'd be too late.

The girl looked down at her hands, which Malcolm had bandaged for her. They still hurt, and she saw a little blood seeping through the bandages, but she ignored the pain, thinking for a moment before asking "How- how well did you know my mother?"

Malcolm smiled then "I've known her for a long time, since before you were born. I knew your father, too. He was one of my first sponsors in The Tournament." He said the last two words with enough importance that she knew it was a name, not just a title of a competition.

"The Tournament?" she asked. "What tournament?"

Malcolm looked at her with surprise. "You mean you didn't know? I thought that's what that shocked look was the first time you saw me. Thought you might have recognized me." She shook her head, and it caused him to laugh lightly. The dark skinned man set about hitting some controls on the flight panel, and a picture box appeared on the front view screen. The box filled with static for a moment, then filled with the image of Malcolm, holding a trophy as tall as he was. Under him were the words "Unreal Tournament Grand Champion" and a date some 5 years prior.

Suddenly, something she heard a long time ago came to her. She'd heard of the Unreal Tournament in school. It was some kind of ultra-violent fighting match. It used portable instant cloning units called 'Respawners' to, in effect, keep the players alive after being killed. She didn't know the details of how it worked, though. "You're the Grand Champion?" she was impressed and amazed.

He laughed again "I _was_ the Grand Champion. I'm retired now. Figured it was best I leave while I was on top."

She was suddenly struck with an odd question "Wait… if you knew my mother when Dad was still alive, then why were you… um-?" She didn't know quite how to ask the question tactfully.

Malcolm figured it out anyway "Why was I sleeping with her?" She nodded, blushing a little "Your mother did love your father, very much. When he died, something inside of her broke. It's why she drank so much." This was all information she'd figured out on her own. "He died a long time ago, though. And your mother was still a woman." He smiled broadly then "And a great fuck, at that."

"AH! Gross!" she shuddered, remembering all those sounds from her mother's room. She did blush as she remembered the large man while he was naked; hugely muscled, well endowed, and exotically dark skinned. It was true she was young, but she wasn't a virgin. She thought upon what it might feel like to have someone as large as he was fuck her, and decided that it would probably hurt, since he was so much larger than her.

It struck her as odd that she was thinking these lewd thoughts, so soon after what she'd just been through. Her mind was trying to avoid the despair and focus on something, anything else. It then also struck her that she'd been in the ship for hours and still didn't know where they were going. "Malcolm, where are we going, anyway?"

The large man smiled. "We're going to the planet Telmeron. I've an old friend there I'd like you to meet; woman by the name of Blaze. She runs one of the groups in The Tournament: Venom. An all-female group."

The girl gave him an odd look "Why?"

Malcolm laughed "Because, as the former Grand Champion, I can see potential in people. And I'm something of a talent scout for new blood." He smiled to her "And the way you were screaming when you shot and beat that man… Damn girl, you're a real banshee. You keep that rage and you'll have a shot at champion yourself. With training, that is. That's where Blaze comes in."

She thought about this for a while. "What… what if this Blaze won't train me?"

"She will." He said this with certainty. "She owes me more than one favor, so she'll accept you." Again the girl just thought for a while. She should have said no, should have been horrified at the idea of being in a tournament where the goal is to kill people, even if they don't stay dead. Her thoughts were interrupted by Malcolm again. "Necris compete in The Tournament. I think Hawke, the guy in charge of Hawke's Talons, is still gunning for the top, too. Might get your chance at gunning them back."

The rage hit her again as she heard those names. Her eyes hardened, and she didn't cry. "Yeah. Sounds good to me. I'll do it."


	3. The Birth of Banshee

**Banshee – The Origins**

**Chapter 3 – The Birth of Banshee**

She didn't know how long the trip was, exactly. After hours of sitting and thinking, saying very little to Malcolm, she found herself drifting off to sleep. It wasn't a restful sleep, as nightmares came to her through it all. She had visions of her mother being shot, herself shooting people, herself shooting her mother, and the dead men around the hanger. Malcolm just watched the girl's restless sleeping. He'd been through something similar when he first witnessed death as a soldier some 25 years prior.

The girl woke up several times, only to drift back to sleep. She kept up the restless sleep for most of the trip. Eventually, though, something woke her up. It was a lurching and shuddering feeling. She opened her eyes and saw blearily as the tunnel of hyperspace faded away around the ship as they dropped back into normal space. She sat up, rubbed her eyes, and gave a good look out the view screen. Dominating most of the view was a large planet, mostly covered in blue waters, with splatters of green and brown land, all partially hidden under swirls of white clouds. "Is that Telmeron?"

Malcolm nodded "Yes it is." He set about making the ship enter the atmosphere. Flames erupted around them as they made the descent through the ozone. Once the ship was through, Malcolm aimed it for one of the small island-like continents. The ship descended at a rapid pace. Soon, the girl saw what looked like a city. Once they got closer, she saw it was, in fact, the ruins of a city.

The ship slowed as it flew over burnt buildings, most of which had chunks missing from what looked like heavy weapons fire. It looked like a war happened here, and the city paid for it. There was no movement down there, either. No hover or ground vehicles, no people walking. No other ships in the sky, either.

Eventually, there was a building that looked intact in the distance. Obviously a hanger, the grey square of a building was huge, at least 10 stories tall. She guessed it had to be a mile across, and just as long. Massive bay doors opened for them after Malcolm typed something into the communication panel, and the ship flew through. Once inside, she saw there were lines of other small ships, all docked in small lots, like a parking garage for spaceships. Malcolm landed the ship in one of the empty lots and set about the shutdown process.

The girl unstrapped herself from the seat, and stood up. She found her body was stiff from the long journey, but the cabin was far too small to stretch out, so she waited for Malcolm to finish shutting down the ship. Once he was done, he got up, walked past her, and opened the ramp. Following him out, she stretched finally as she looked around. She didn't recognize any of the symbols on the ships around the hanger, and each ship seemed to be a different design entirely. There must have been 100 ships, at every one was something different.

At Malcolm's beckon, she followed him out of the hanger. They walked to an elevator, which shot downward an incredible speed once the doors closed. By how long it took to go down, even at this speed, she figured they were underground when the doors finally slid open again.

She followed Malcolm out, and found herself in the most technologically advanced room she'd ever seen. There were key panels everywhere, flashing lights, screens that looked like panes of glass, all flashing some information or another. The walls were lined with lights and monitors, all showing something different. People in a myriad of uniforms, none of them matching another, were at the monitors or stations, all typing into keyboards, or speaking to someone through a headset microphone. What the girl guessed was the main wall was covered in a screen depicting the planet in a wide, orbital view. She realized, suddenly, that they must have been watching the ship the whole time.

As she looked around, someone approached them. She turned when she realized the woman was coming to them. The woman was tall, around 6 feet, and wore a red jumpsuit, covered in what looked like armor, red with gold trim, hard, but flexible as she moved. The woman's face was pretty, but hard, her blue eyes cold as steal. The flame colored hair atop her head was short and spiked slightly. On her right arm's sleeve was an emblem that looked to be a cobra head, framed in a gold circle. At her hip was a belt, with a pistol holstered in it. The girl suddenly realized that the pistol was the same as Malcolm's.

Malcolm smiled as she saw the dangerous looking woman "Blaze! Been a long time." He looked like he was going to hug the woman, but when she got close enough, she slapped him across the face, and hard. The girl was surprised by this, but Malcolm just laughed "Yeah, I guess I deserved that."

The woman's voice was deep and powerful "Damn straight! You go off and abandon me, again I might add, and then come back here and expect a warm welcome?" The girl looked worried. Malcolm had said this woman was a friend. Then, something unexpected happened. Blaze pulled Malcolm into a kiss. What the hell was going on?

Malcolm just laughed through it all, even the kiss, though his laugh was muffled to a chuckle. Once the woman pulled back, he spoke "Well, it seems you haven't changed a bit. Still the fiery tempered woman I remember."

Blaze smiled then. Seems her anger was just an act. She punched Malcolm's shoulder, though it didn't look held back any, as the large man actually moved at the hit. The woman then seemed to finally notice her. "Who's this? Skin's too pale to be your illegitimate child. A fan of yours?"

Malcolm shook his head "This is Mariel and Doug's daughter." Those were her parents names. Blaze seemed to know who her parents were, too, as she just nodded. "Her home was attacked. Necris-hired mercs." He paused for a moment before adding "Mariel's dead. She witnessed it, too. Hawke's group did it."

The girl looked down as she was reminded of it all again, but then looked up as Blaze approached her. "Tough thing for a kid to witness. I'm sorry about your mother." She looked then to Malcolm, and asked "Why'd you bring her here?"

Malcolm looked to the girl, then to Blaze "This kid's got potential. She gunned down one of the mercs, and then beat his face into mush." Blazed looked at the girl's bandaged hands, which still hurt a little. "You should train her. She'll make a good addition to Venom."

Blaze scoffed "A scrawny kid like this? It's going to take a lot of training, Malcolm."

Malcolm just laughed "It took a lot of training to get you up to your level, too. Or do I need to remind you again?"

Blaze glared at him "Fine, I get the point." She then looked at the girl, who had remained silent this whole time, but not looking away. "What's your name, girl?"

She hesitated a moment before answering "Beatrice."

Blaze shook her head "Hmph. You say that name with disgust and detachment. It's not yours. So tell me what your name is."

The girl looked at her, a little surprised. It was true that she hated the name given to her. It was girly, and not her at all, but she'd just accepted it. Now she had the chance to give herself a new name, but what? She thought for a moment, and came back to the same thing every time. She remembered what the mercs had called her, and what Malcolm had said to her. So she looked up at the woman, green eyes hardening as she looked into Blaze's steely blue eyes, and told the woman her new name.

"My name is Banshee."


End file.
